


Winter Bruce Drabble Collections

by roshytsunami



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Bruce Banner-centric, Christmas, F/M, Gen, Hanukkah, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-22 04:57:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17053583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roshytsunami/pseuds/roshytsunami
Summary: This is for the Winter Bruce Prompts from December 18th-24th of 2018. Listed below are the prompts. Relationships listed at top of each chapter. The original post had pictures go here to view https://brucewinterwonderland.tumblr.com/1. Bows and Decorations2. Holiday (Christmas/Hannuka/Kwansa/New Year’s/etc)3. Hot Beverage4. Gift Exchange5. Mistletoe6. Snow Day7. Grinch





	1. Bows and Decorations

**Thor/Bruce**

 

_Thor is a beloved space prince who crashes down to earth and into one Dr. Bruce Banner’s life._

 

Bruce sighs taking off the long overcoat along with the sweater he was wearing. It’s boiling in the apartment when he walks in and it smells like fire? He rushes to the small kitchen and let’s out a sigh of relief.

“Good nothing is on fire but then- “

“Bruce are you home,” asks Thor from the living room. “If you are don’t come in!”

Bruce snorts to himself and disobeys entering the living room, “What cou-“ He doesn’t finish his sentence instead chuckling and letting out an undignified snort as he sees Thor caught in a mess of wrapping paper, ribbons and tape. Mostly ribbons and tape. His hair which is in that awkward stage of long but not long enough to do more than curl around his ears is covered in sticky bows and glitter tape. His arms are wrapped in the gaudy Christmas paper they got from the dollar store last week and the box. The culprit of this whole mess lays at the end of Thor’s feet, covered in one red sock and the other green, is completely bare. He wonders for a moment if Thor tried to wrap himself as a gift bringing a blush to his cheeks.

Bruce chuckles and kneels by him pulling off the sticky tape in Thor’s hair as gently as he can

“I told you not to come in,” he huffs blowing one of the ribbons dangling in his face making the glitter travel further down his nose. He winces as Bruce pulls on his hair.

“Well you should have known better. Plus, it smelled like a fire, so I checked the kitchen first.”

Thor gasps, “you still don’t trust me after the crescent rolls incident?”

“Hmmm not exactly. I know you’re still learning, and that stove has a personality,” he says using his sleeve to carefully wipe the glitter off Thor’s face. Unfortunately, it just makes a worse mess and ends up stuck in his beard. “You might have to get a shower some of the glitter isn’t coming out. Are you pouting?”

“No,” he says clearly pouting. “I was trying to help by wrapping the gifts. You made it look so easy last night and I wanted to surprise you. Gifts under the tree and all.”

Bruce ruffles Thor’s head affectionately, “well I was surprised. It’s kind of a funny surprise and I needed one today so thank you Thor.”

“Your welcome…was work bad today?”

Bruce winces, “well my vacation starts today…I lost my job. I couldn’t do what they were asking me to do.”

Thor pulls him into a hug, “I’m sorry Bruce.”

“Hmm oh yeah,” he says turning redder, “it’s not your fault,” he says awkwardly patting Thor on the back. Secretly he thinks Thor gives the best hugs strong, warm, and tight. Like being enclosed in a warm blanket and having that feeling of extra weight on his body the good weighted feeling is nice. He pulls away from the hug or tries to before Thor is pulling him down on the ground to lean against his chest. It’s a nice feeling a little awkward since they aren’t really…well he’s not even sure anymore at this point.

“They were asking me to make a bio weapon…uh think of it as a weapon used to make people get colds or get really sick and I wasn’t going to do it. I thought we were using the radiation for medical cures not weapons so they fired me.”

Thor keeps Bruce close and leans down placing a kiss on the side of his head. Bruce’s ear feels like they are on fire. “Uh…I should start looking for a new job.”

Thor watches as Bruce stands up loosing the warmth. He looks up at Bruce confused, “is kissing not done on Midgard or Earth? I see it on TV a lot.”

“No um it’s just…kissing is intimate or to me it is and yeah,” he laughs having not explained himself at all to Thor.

Thor tilts his head confused before nodding in Bruce’s direction, “then I will not kiss you unless asked. Except for under mistletoe, right? They said on the TV it cannot be avoided.”

“Right. Right, great thanks,” he says making a move to leave before he does something else stupid. Really his life could not turn into more of cheesy anime protagonist. Honestly between losing his job and having a man fall from the sky and into his life he’s a little worn out.

He pauses in his step towards his room. Wait did he just agree that mistletoe kisses were mandatory? He shakes his head entering his bedroom to lay down and think, rest, anything but think about why his brain immediately went to “let’s put mistletoe all around the house”.


	2. Holiday (Christmas/Hannuka/Kwansa/New Year’s/etc)

**Clint/Bruce**

 

_Clint doesn’t understand the deal with lighting candles every night._

 

Clint leans over the back of the couch arms resting on the top of the couch and body mostly slumped otherwise as he watches Bruce light the candles. He never would have expected Bruce to be religious. Seriously with half the shit he has been through who could believe in a god after all that? Well they both know a literal god but still to have that faith seems ridiculous to him if not stupid worship.

“Ok I gotta know. It’s been bugging me.”

Bruce laughs nearly blowing out the last candle, “meaning it’s been bothering you for five minutes,” he says turning around to look at Clint before blowing out the match stick and laying it on the metal tray.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. You got me,” he says turning around in the couch as Bruce comes back towards the main room not stuck lighting candles by the window. It’s weird how he only lite one with a match and the other with the main candle? Why not just light them all with the match?

“Anyway, why do you light them,” he asks bluntly. Bruce makes a confused face. “You know why light something for something that doesn’t exist? I mean shit Bruce you’ve had a shitty life until I came into in,” he grins. “Like I just don’t get how you can believe in something or someone that doesn’t do shit for you? Like if someone oh so powerful allows that to happen to someone who believes in him seems like a dick right?”

Bruce smiles sitting on the chair opposite of Clint. “You mean why believe in something when I’ve been dealt a bad hand?”

“Yeah man. Like why waste your time lighting candles for him if he’s not doing you any favors,” he says sitting up on the couch.

“I’m not lighting candles for him,” he sighs sitting back in the chair before adjusting his glasses. “But I guess that’s not what you are asking. I guess it is odd for me to believe in something or someone greater than myself with all that has happened. And the best answer I have is it’s a comfort?”

“But how?” Clint nearly whines.

“Well I already have a few voices in my head,” he chuckles, “so it’s nice to feel like I’m talking to someone about my problems or life when I don’t have anyone or feel lonely. Even if nothing good happens from talking or praying to him it makes me feel better that at least I told someone even if they do nothing. I guess I vent more than pray now,” he rubs his head. “But this holiday is special to me in more than one way.”

He takes a moment to gather himself as Clint changes position on the couch again. Clint can’t sit still unless it’s for a mission or something that requires patience. He hates those type of missions.

“My mother celebrated it with me when she was alive and after she died, I wasn’t allowed to celebrate it. Jennifer’s family, my cousin, her family took me in and they didn’t want to celebrate any of that nonsense,” he laughs bitterly. He still remembers when he asked them to take him to the synagogue and they said no he would be going to church just like the rest of them.

He shakes his head of the memory. “I was stubborn and almost burnt down their house because I lit the candles too close to the curtains. It would have been better if they just let me use the Menorah, but they wanted nothing to do with it and I wanted to celebrate something my mother had made special for me, so it is what it is.”

“Wow even your cousin’s family sounds horrible. I thought I had it bad with a drunk dad and orphanage hopping.” He says laying his head on the arm of the couch looking up at Bruce. “Ok so bag of dicks family made you stop your religion?”

“Jennifer was nice…well I mean they weren’t horrible…they didn’t mean to be anyway. They weren’t expecting another kid and Jennifer was their daughter, so I was just an outsider. They just had different beliefs and didn’t know what to do?” And wow even that sounds lame against his own ears. They did give him food and shelter when they could have sent him to an orphanage like Clint. He should be grateful for the small things, right?

“More like didn’t want to know. Ok shitty parents or guardians checked off the list,” he says drawing Bruce from his memories. “So, what’s the deal with lighting the candles. And why does it last eight nights? I mean it sounds cool getting eight days of gifts but there has to be a catch.”

Bruce smiles softly, “well it is more than that.” He pauses thinking how to explain. “Hmm short version is Judaism was outlawed, our temple was seized by a monarchy who was forcing us to change to their beliefs or die. We didn’t enjoy that, so we fought them and gained control over our temple and it had to be spiritually cleansed. There wasn’t enough oil to cleanse it but somehow the oil lasted eight days and eight nights hence why we light eight candles.”

It doesn’t go unnoticed the parallels between what Bruce faced with his adopted family.

“Holy shit…ok tell me the long version cause no one thinks of lighting candles as a badass remembrance of slaughtering a monarchy.” He leans over on the arm rest of the couch excited.

Bruce smiles at the interest and is not sure what to do. He clears his throat and starts, “well ok so…”


	3. Hot Beverage

**Natasha/Bruce**

 

_Natasha makes great hot chocolate._

 

Twist. Turn. Twist. Turn. Roll over.

It’s the same motion over and over. The sheets are too tight. The bed is too warm and wet soaked with sweat. Everything feels like sand against his skin. His shirt is soaked with sweat and he can feel his chest getting tighter and tighter as the air leaves his lips.

He sits up suddenly in bed body humming like a warning of the green to come. He pants rubbing his eyes blinking a few times before staring at his hands. They would appear normal to anyone else but even he can see the slight tinge of green near his finger tips the pale green that peeks through the translucent skin. His skin can’t be translucent can it?

He checks again feeling the pulse beneath his fingertips. It’s too high but the Hulk is not here. The Hulk is awake fighting to get out banging against the side of his temples for the threat. Bruce grabs his head letting out harsh shaking breaths. He grips his hair tugging on the curls feeling his muscle tense and clench. He grinds his teeth huffing as he reaches out to Hulk.

He finds him in his mind stomping the ground or what his mind thinks is the ground. To him it looks like a sea of endless pink and muddled browns. It’s too foreign and strange but here he is watching Hulk rip trees from the muddled ground tossing them in the air. Hulk screams vocabulary gone, and only primal animal noises left shake the fake reality.

Bruce approaches the screaming behemoth cautiously before letting out a soft whimper. Hulk turns around and sees Bruce. He grins his teeth and bends down his massive frame to get level with Bruce’s view. His thick green fingers clench and unclench as he grinds his teeth snorting as he stares at Bruce.

Bruce licks his lips and let’s out a shaky breath, “nightmare…not real. Safe. We are safe.”

Hulk’s muscles clench as he falls into a sit making the ground shake before him. He crosses his arms over his chest closing his eyes. Bruce edges closer to him and reaches out his hand to touch one of the massive fingers.

“Safe. Promise.”

Hulk says nothing the only motion he demonstrates is the even rising of his chest. He opens his eyes and stares at Bruce fully looking at the worn man. He visibly relaxes muscles becoming loose before nudging Bruce with his finger.

Bruce stares at the room looking around confused. He’s back. This is real. There is no pink and brown ground. He glances at the clock and realizes the time. He’s unsure of how long he was talking to Hulk, but the blankets feel cool. He feels too cold and the sweat he was soaked in feels dry. He gets out of bed shaking and heads out of the bedroom. He needs to be away or maybe he needs coffee. Stay awake keep the nightmares at bay.

He rubs his head forgoing his glasses as he lets his feet lead him to the kitchen. His mind sees no one. He is stuck on auto pilot before he feels pressure against his shoulder and drops the cup he had been holding.

He turns looking at the woman before him.

“N-Natasha? Heh scared me,” he says before looking down at the broken glass. “I’ll get it cleaned.”

He feels her cool hands against his cheeks as she holds him in place looking into his eyes. He hates this. He hates when she stares into his eyes as if she can see the real him. It unnerves him.

She says nothing to him and lets his face go. Instead she watches him clean the glass up in silence. He hates feeling the stare. It makes the hair on his neck stand up when she does that.

“Natasha what-”

“Sit on the couch. You cleaned the mess now sit,” she says in a no-nonsense voice.

Bruce looks at her confused. He needs the coffee now. Not this. He feels the pressure on his shoulder as Natasha grips him firmly. “Sit,” she repeats moving him towards the couch with only her firm grip on his shoulder as any contact.

Bruce has no reason to disobey and just accepts his fate. He sits on the couch and once Natasha finds it satisfactory, she releases her grip from his shoulder and heads back to the kitchen. He feels the static building up around his body just from the simple missed contact. He sighs and places pressure on both his eyes with the palms of his hands breathing. He just focuses on breathing.

He feels fingers digging into his shoulder and looks up at Natasha offering him a mug. It smells sickeningly sweet but bitter. He takes the offered mug expecting coffee but instead sees a brown murky liquid with an equally brown stick from the cup.

This is not coffee.

He glances at Natasha curled up on the couch by him but not too close to do more than touch his shoulder. She sips her hot chocolate staring at him with the eyes over the rim. He offers a small forced smile before sipping the sweet beverage.

It tastes as sweet as he thought it would and spicy. It must be from the cinnamon stick. He looks over at her about to speak before she interrupts him.

“Have you heard of the Little Match Girl?”

Bruce was not expecting that question at all. Sure, a question of why he’s covered in sweat and looks like a hobo would be a good start or why his hands won’t stop shaking, or even why he’s losing time or why his hands haven’t stopped shaking even with his fingers wrapped around the warm mug.

“No.”

Natasha nods her head as if that is an agreement to listen to said story.

“Good then I’ll tell you,” she states before her voice changes to sound like soft whispers. Bruce doesn’t listen or her half way listen’s nerves still too broken from the event tonight. He tries to ignore the what if’s, but he can not shut his brain off. It has focused on one thing and one thing only and he could have killed her. He could have killed them all and no one would be the wiser. Or they would see the Hulk size dent in their lifeless bodies or-

He feels the familiar pressure in his shoulder and looks over at Natasha lips turned into a small smile. Pressure is good…but still he could have killed them. He could have killed her. One day this won’t work. One day she’ll get tired of his bullshit, his nightmares that ruin her sleep or could kill her but until then he’ll just hope the pressure is enough.

He let’s out a tired sigh and watches as she starts the story over again.


	4. Gift Exchange

**Tony/Bruce**

 

_Tony might have gone overboard with gifts for his boyfriend._

 

This is starting to get ridiculous. He’s over forty years old or he thinks he is? There’s been too many time escapades recently with the Avengers. Hopefully, Asshole Reed Richard is done messing with time. He doesn’t think he can handle another time paradox or even think of there being one. It’s too much to take in.

However, Tony seems to be suffering the worse from said time effects. One being that he thinks his boyfriend needs to have the best Christmas. He’s not against it but with Tony everything a big event even if it should be modest. Tony Stark does not do modest unless it’s hiding his heart of gold.

He really wishes Tony would have told him what he saw during his time escapade. It would make it easier for him to reassure him whatever it was he saw. He let’s out a sigh opening the door to the lab and seeing a huge red and green gaudy gift on his lab. His whole lab table is covered in confetti and this huge gift right in the center as if it was meant to be there. It’s annoying.

First it was a giant teddy bear that took up their entire bed “but Bruce you’re a bear I thought you would like another bear to cuddle with?” Really Tony can be…he can be just Tony. It’s fascinating sometimes watching how his mind works and how he can miss the most basic human interactions. Sure, he can pretend to be a suave asshole in front of billionaires or pretend to be calm and collected during dangerous events, but Bruce knows better.

It’s not like Bruce knows any better on how to act like a normal human. He just uses sarcasm to try and hide his failings which are many, much more than Tony he’s sure of that. And even then, sometimes he uses it too oddly or not in correct context and it comes out sounding dry or just plain abnormal.

He doesn’t have to wonder why that is. He knows the answer to that question even if it took him until college to find out why he can only eat certain foods, why certain textures feel like sandpaper against his skin, and why he is terrible at human interaction. With Tony though it just seemed easier. It wasn’t seen as wrong or abnormal it just is. It’s a nice relief and feels great to be with someone who doesn’t tell him to stop his “nuisances” but embrace them? It’s a very good feeling which is why when he sees the gaudy gift on his lab table, he knows he needs to talk to Tony about this.

He sets his bag down by the lab and walks away from the gaudy gift taking the stairs down the lab. He has his eyes scanned at the door as the AI F.R.I.D.A.Y asks for his voice pattern recognition phrase.

Bruce sighs. Maybe he should get this changed too.

“Sexy bear approaching the anus.”

Really, he would have just preferred Tony kept it Strongest Avenger like he did for all the other technical equipment. Short and to the point. He hears the sander as the door opens.

“Hey Brucey Bear,” smiles Tony as he pulls the metal from the sander. He pauses the machine and grins looking at him as he comes down the stairs. “So how was the surprise.”

“Um that’s why I came to talk to you,” he says rubbing his head as Tony takes the goggles off his face.

“What? Is it the wrong size? Too soft or too thick? I was sure- “

“No Tony. Tony…I didn’t even open it yet.” He asks earning a blank stare from Tony. “I just…Tony why do you keep getting me gifts?”

Tony grins standing up from the work bench as he walks over to Bruce. “Can’t I buy my boyfriend gifts?”

“Well yes but Tony it’s been since the start of December…every day and well last time you did something like this was with Pepper, with the legion of Ironmen and you’re not dying are you? You’re not hiding that?”

Tony sputters, “what of course not. I mean shit just because I give you gifts you think I’m dying? I don’t know whether to feel disgusted or flattered.”

Bruce sighs, “ok good…so not dying is good so why?”

“Why not,” he answers shrugging as Bruce groans.

“Tony, please. This is…I’ve never gotten a present a day for nearly a month. This is confusing for me and I don’t know what it means. Should I be doing the same thing? I looked it up and there’s no reference why people might do it and you’re not like other people Tony, so I don’t know why I thought the internet would help but I don’t understand why you are doing this,” he says frustrated. “Is it because of whatever happened during that time event?”

Tony’s eyebrow raises slightly, “no.”

“Ha it is. You raised your eyebrow meaning something…something is wrong with it. Either the Time event or giving the gifts? Tony can you please just explain it to me please,” he asks him.

Tony let’s out a sigh, “it took me to one of your Christmas memories Bruce. That thing whatever that sludge that looks like Venom on a bad day was talking about murder and destruction. It showed me your first Christmas memory and I didn’t like it. It showed me a lot more than that but yours stuck out the most for obvious reasons.”

“Obvious reasons?”

“Bruce that sludge time monster was trying to turn me against you and kill you to stop the Hulk from forming. That’s what it wanted me to do because I love you.” He blushes rubbing his head, “Anyway it was unclear if that Christmas was a memory or if I was really in your past and well luckily Thor figured out how to get rid of that thing.”

“Oh…well thanks for not killing me in the memory or dream. I just don’t understand the reasons for the gifts still,” he mumbles. “Sorry.”

Tony chuckles, “well I saw one bad Christmas and thought you needed a better one. And then I thought you need a lot of good ones and I knew once a year giving you a good Christmas wouldn’t be enough, so I made it every day without telling you. Not literally every day as Christmas but I was trying to make up the bad ones with gifts because that’s what I know to do. Christmas has a lot of gifts, hence the gifts each day.”

“Tony you don’t have to do that. I appreciate it, but I just like being your best friend more. It’s the best gift because you don’t,” he pauses thinking. “You like me…you love me even when I’m not human or not normal enough like others. You don’t try to change me, make me fit better you just let me be and treat me as if I’m normal. It’s a good feeling not being different but still different?” He frowns thinking he made no sense. “I love you Tony…it’s just hard to show and express but I do.”

“Bruce you show me all the time. I see it…I mean sometimes I’m an idiot and don’t but more than 90 percent of the time I see it. You do good Bruce.”


	5. Mistletoe

_**Steve/Bruce** _

 

_Steve has an assignment due and no inspiration._

 

Steve is trying very hard not to scream or turn into a scrooge but honestly, his friends are driving him up the wall. Today was supposed to just be about decorating the house and baking some cookies. Simple maybe a few hours decorating lunch then baking and then everyone goes home that’s not paying rent for the house. No, it had turned into an all event and he still had school work to do before tomorrow.

_“Oh, it’s easy Steve just draw some fruit and you’re set right?”_

_“Oh, Steve stop being a downer and join the fun. You can sketch quick enough can’t ya?”_

There’s a difference between sketching a mess picture to get an idea and making a charcoal sketch to turn in for a grade. He hasn’t even gotten a rough draft of the sketch he wants to do, nor has he found anything worth sketching for the assignment. It’s due in a few days and he hasn’t even picked up the pencil for it yet. He was hoping after this holiday decorating gathering, he would have gotten some inspiration but nothing yet.

He was starting to feel the itch under his skin. His chest was becoming tight but not because of his blasted asthma. He needed to find something to draw and fast. It was holiday time and the teacher didn’t care what it was as long as it was charcoal and followed the theme “Breathless” which could be anything except kissing. Most of the class had groaned at the thought but Steve was intrigued “Breathless” could have been easily done. He could have just sketched his inhaler but how lame was that?

He sighs hanging one of the bulbs on the tree lost in thought. Mostly thoughts of failing his Drawing II class and having to repeat it in the spring.

“Penny for your thoughts,” smiles Bruce holding out a dirty penny in front of his face.

Steve must have given him a disgusted look as the poor man begins to fluster and fidget. “Oh sorry…so just trying to cheer you up. Unless that’s not what you want.”

Steve sighs. It’s not this guy’s fault oh what’s his name again? One of Tony’s lab partners or partners in crime more likely. The owlish boy pushes his glasses up his face and Steve offers a small smile.

“I’m just going to fail my art class. Not a big deal,” he says playing the over dramatic art student. The guy in front of him doesn’t fall for it and grins.

“Really all you have to do is draw something. Not that I can talk about drawing much. I can draw Structural formulas, but I don’t think that would count for you.”

“Not at all whatever those are,” he shrugs taking another bulb to place.

“Hey um Steve why don’t we get some eggnog? It could uh help having a break. Plus, Sam made it, so you know it’s going to be good and not taste too sweet,” he smiles.

“Right because putting up bulbs is such hard work,” he grumbles.

Bruce just shrugs, “well it could be if you’re an interior decorator but you’re not so drinks?”

“Sure, why not,” he says following the brown curly haired boy to the kitchen. He doesn’t want to be rude to the guy, but he’s just not interested in talking. Really what could he have in common with a smart guy like…whoever he is. He’s one of Tony’s friends and they seem to talk endlessly science jargon all the time so why talk to him? Maybe he’s just being mopey and falling into the stereotype of the woe is me art student.

The man offers him a glass of eggnog and he sips it smiling. Sam sure knows how to cook even if it’s just throwing in a few secret ingredients to make eggnog. It’s really good he almost hums in enjoyment.

Bruce laughs, “ha knew you would like it he makes the best doesn’t he,” Bruce says heading back to the living room when someone ooo’s and ahhh’s come from their friends.

“Ooo Steve is under the mistletoe who’s going to kiss him,” teases Bucky.

Steve looks up from his drink. Above his head is a mistletoe a cheaply made plastic mistletoe but one all the same.

“No one,” he says blushing. “No one has to,” he says as Bucky nudges him looking over at his boyfriend Sam who just mouths to leave Steve alone.

Suddenly without warning, Steve feels a pair of sticky lips against his own along with silence from his friends. Holy shit does this feel good he drops the plastic cup of eggnog and kisses the person back opening his eyes seeing freckles along the person’s cheeks along with a deep blush. He pulls back tasting the sweetness from the eggnog and feelings the stickiness of the kiss on his lips. He looks at the man he can’t think of his name and just stands there speechless breathless watching the blushing man with glasses walk out the door.

Holy fuck what was that?! Who was that?!

And then it hits him.

Eggnog and mistletoe can leave you “Breathless”.


	6. Snow Day

**Betty/Bruce**

 

_Betty takes Bruce out during what he calls an ‘insane blizzard’._

 

Betty knocks on the boy’s dorm labeled 309 and waits patiently. She has her ski cap on along with a purple sweater covered over with a puffy black jacket. She knocks on the door again a little impatient this morning. She hears shuffling and some squeaking sounds come from behind the door. She raises an eyebrow as the door open and laughs seeing the man covered head to toe in various layers of warmth.

“Really Bruce,” she laughs, “you look like an overweight brown bear. How many layers do you even have on?”

Bruce pulls the mittens from his stuffed pocket and speaks through the red scarf covering his face. “I get cold easily.”

“Bruce it’s not even that cold out and you’ll warm up too fast with all those layers,” she chuckles as he sighs waddling out the door. He locks the apartment behind him before looking down at her.

“Ok I’m out of my room now where are we going?”

“Ugh you make it sound like I’m taking you out to torture you,” she says grabbing his mitten covered hand leading him towards the stairs.

“This is torture,” he squeaks, or it might just be the layers of clothing chaffing against each other. “It’s below 10 degrees outside with a windchill that makes it feel like -15 degrees. We should be staying inside not outside,” he says worried as they approach the side doors to his dorm building.

Betty turns around and stares up at him glaring. “I’m in only three layers and I’m fine. It’s not going to be that bad. Plus, afterwards we can get something hot to eat or drink. You know they have dollar hot chocolates at the library.”

“You mean the library covered in snow and icicles and looks more like an igloo ice castle? Their hot chocolate is probably ice by now,” he grumbles.

Betty looks up at the grey sky and lets out a loud sigh before her eyes land on Bruce’s eyes hidden behind his glasses and the enormous red scarf covering half his face. “Bruce come on stop whining and just enjoy the adventure.”

She snatches his hand and begins to pull him along campus.

“Enjoy the cold she says,” he grumbles allowing her to pull him along. It’s not as if he has a choice. Betty is just trying to help. Really winter time is not his favorite time of year. It’s around Christmas time and his birthday is in December something he hates. He doesn’t hate it just because most people forget and focus on Christmas though that is part of it, he just only has a few memories of his mother and most of them are during winter. It’s more bittersweet than anything when he thinks of her and what she would be like or if she would be proud of him now.

He feels Betty pinch his hand as he complains again and sighs. She is a very head strong woman and he enjoys that about her. She gets her work done and is not afraid to go up against anyone. Maybe it’s because she was a military child? He’s not sure but he does enjoy her company a lot.

“Ok there’s snow everywhere now what,” he asks looking at the area Betty had brought him,

It’s not that far from the dorms maybe half a mile or more. It’s over the lake where the rowing team use to practice before the whole lake froze over. Now it’s just a huge chunk of solid ice covered in snow. Well maybe not all the way covered in snow he can still see the bottom of the lake if he looks deep enough.

He edges over towards the bank of the lake and can see almost all the way down below. It looks like a solid black mass and some fish are still swimming under the ice? Or well he hopes they are fish and not some other creature.

He feels a tug on his arm and see Betty smiling up at him her cheeks already a bright red from the cold.

“Bruce we can get to the lake in a minute. First, we got to make snow angels,” she shouts at him arms raised in delight.

“What? Betty I’ll freeze.” He says moving away from her almost losing his balance on the snow. “Snow is cold and wet.”

She laughs smirking at him, “not through the six layers you have on polar bear.” She pokes him in the middle like the dough boy and smiles. “Please Bruce. Fun for just a few hours and then you can become the abdominal polar bear.”

He sighs tying the scarf tighter over his face and giving her a solid nod. “I guess- “he starts before Betty is pushing him down in the snow with a plop. He can’t get up. It’s too much weight holding him down and he feels like the girl that turned into a blueberry from Willy Wonka.

From his side he hears Betty’s soft laughter. He looks at her through the corner of his eyes as he begins to wave his arms and legs to his side to make an angel. Gosh she’s beautiful. He feels his face warm not turning red from the cold.

He watches he stand up and look at her snow angel with approval before helping him get out of his plopped mess. She nearly tumbles over with Bruce but keep her balance as she looks at the “snow angel” and lets out an undignified snort of amusement.

“Hey don’t laugh,” Bruce bristles. “It’s a snow angel…well sort of,” he says before laughing along with her.

“I can’t help it, it looks like a huge blob,” she laughs before slowly stopping taking in a deep breath. Her lips are chapped he notices as her blue eyes land on his own brown ones.

“Hmm seem to be getting hot under those layers you want to start taking them off,” she teases as his face turns redder.

“No…I mean no I’m fine nice and toasty,” he laughs nervously. He is beginning to sweat under the layers, but he’d rather be like a furnace than admit that he is getting too hot.

“Sure ok,” she smirks looking out at the frozen lake. She sees a group of students up ahead and beams walking towards them Bruce waddling behind her.

“Oh, we have to try this,” she tells him pointing at the five-dollar ice skate rental for an hour. It’s for the latest sorority sisters who seem to be freezing standing behind the plastic table and metal chairs.

Bruce takes one look at the sign and the people and shakes his head.

“What no way. Betty I can’t skate,” he protests as she drags him towards the line bouncing on her feet.

“That’s ok I’ll teach you,” she smiles seeing his pout. “Bruce, I promise it won’t be that bad. Plus, you have a ton of layers on if you fall you won’t even feel it.”

She’s wrong about that.

He feels it the first through the tenth time when he falls on the ice. He can’t keep his balance. He’s never worn skates in his life not to mention ice skates which are more like in line skating wheels he thinks. Either way it’s over the tenth time he has tried to just stand in place and has fallen over like an uncoordinated turtle on his back. It’s embarrassing and frankly he’s getting sick of being looked at as a grown man who can’t even balance himself on ice.

“Betty this is stupid. I look like an idiot,” he whispers harshly as she pulls him up again. Or tries to he just topples over landing on his butt the coldness seeping right through his layers.

“Only cause you look like a marshmallow on small skates. Bruce take some layers off,” she says as he just sits there looking up at her. He’s about to protest when she gives him The Look tm. He knows better by now and really, it’s just a few layers. It’s not like she asked him to take them all off and he is getting a little overheated.

He sighs and begins to undo the first layer and then the second and third all the way to the forth layer. He tucks his scarf under his sweater and makes sure it covers his mouth before looking up at her as if this is enough layers to shed.

She only smiles and moves his numerous jackets and sweaters to the nearest bench and helps him stand.

“If I get sick, I’m blaming you,” he says wobbling on his skates. He feels a bit better the cold isn’t so bad now.

Betty just rolls her eyes and just helps him stay standing. She tells him not to look at his skates at all as she distracts him with their latest assignment. She gently pulls him across the ice slowly still talking as he continues to speak to her before gasping.

“I did it,” he says looking at the bench which is only a few feet away. He didn’t travel far but still it’s an accomplishment. He beams at her still holding onto both her hands.

“Yeah see it’s not so bad,” she says skating backwards holding his hand as he tries to skate with her. “Now going backwards is something else but I’ll teach you that one later,” she smiles.

He can do nothing more than letting out a soft yeah at her statement. “Can we still get some hot chocolate afterwards?”

Betty just smiles as she leads Bruce down the lake, “sure.”


	7. Grinch

**Rebecca Banner, Bruce Banner**

 

_Bruce watches the Ginch with his Mom and Guardian._

 

Bruce turns on the TV switching the dial to on. He kneels by the TV holding his rag doll Guardian in his arm. He hums loudly to himself blocking out the noise his mother and father are making and stares at the static on the TV. He switches the dial slowly eyes reflecting the TV shows as he watches the show for a few seconds before switching the dial again. He hears the bells and sees a man in a suit singing. He turns the dial. He sees Walt Disney and Tinkerbelle on TV. He turns the dial. He keeps turning the dial humming an unknown tune, but one Guardian likes until the bright blue covers the screen and reveals a sickening green and red background with ‘Merry Christmas’ as the background music.

He beams listening to the man on TV announce the next coming program. He turns the volume up slightly and smiles. He takes Guardian over to the couch and sits him up on the couch before taking a cookie from the tray on the coffee table. He’s careful not to break it or have crumbs get on the couch as he pulls himself up on the couch.

He pulls Guardian closer to him as the jolly man on the TV disappears the sound of singing is heard of a blue introduction screen. He munches on the cookie as the writing flows onto the screen saying, “How The Grinch Stole Christmas”. He hums along to the Whos singing on TV. His mother should be coming soon. She promised to watch it with him while daddy did other things.

The show is a few minutes in before he hears the front door slam. His eyes stay glued to the TV as he pulls Guardian into his lap and hugs him tightly. He hears movement from his side and turns looking up at his mother frowning.

She pats his face and kisses his forehead wiping her blotched eyes.

“Hey honey what part are we at,” she asks him pulling him closer to her side as she glances at the TV.

“The Grinch is mad about Christmas,” Bruce replies.

He takes a moment to look at his mother and sees the red mark around her neck. Guardian doesn’t like the mark, but Guardian isn’t big enough yet. Bruce bites his lip, “like daddy?” He asks as if his father just need a little Christmas cheer to fix whatever is wrong with him.

His mother chokes back a sob and forces the bile rising to her throat down as her son looks up at her. She pulls him into her lap and hugs him tightly before resting her arms around him.

“Your dad’s not mad at Christmas it’s something else,” she tells him as he makes that questioning face. His brows scrunching together, and his eyes lost in thought. Perhaps millions of ideas and thoughts are passing through that small brain of his. She doesn’t know she just knows her little boy is perfect and doesn’t need the stress of his father.

“But don’t you worry about it ok,” she says ruffling his hair. “Let’s watch the Grinch ok honey.”

“Mommy am I really a monster,” Bruce asks instead of watching the TV.

“Who told you that,” His mother asks voice clipped. Bruce shrugs looking down at Guardian for help.

He forces the words out, “Daddy,” he tugs on Guardian’s arm rubbing the soft doll’s arm between his fingers. “He doesn’t like it when I make things or…or read a lot. He said I’m a monster. Is that why he gets mad?”

His mother’s lips purse together hearing his statement. Her hands shake as she pats Bruce on the head. “Well,” she starts voice clipped and harsh. “Your daddy is wrong.”

She pulls up Bruce’s face and looks into his eyes determined, “You can do whatever you want Bruce alright don’t let him make you think otherwise. You’re not a monster honey,” she says kissing him on the forehead.

Her hands are still shaking and itching to strangle that man. She might not fight for herself, but she’ll be damned if that man comes anywhere near her son. She needs to plan an escape. She can’t keep living like this and Bruce needs a better life but that’s for another time. For now, she needs to get her anger under control before she erupts and does something rash.

“Honey I’m going to get some popcorn and string, so we can string up some garland while we watch the Grinch ok?” She moves out from the couch and moves Bruce, so she can get up before heading to the kitchen.

“Ok…is the Grinch going to be nice like in the book,” Bruce asks watching his mother take the popcorn bowl from the counter.

“Hmm I don’t know sweetie we’ll just have to wait and see,” she says gathering the supplies to make the garland before heading back to the living room.

“Ok. I like Max the best.” He smiles watching the Grinch’s dog smile at the Grinch slyly when his tail gets caught in the sewing machine. “Can I get a dog?”

“Maybe we’ll just have to wait and see honey alright.” She says handing him a prepared needle and string, so he can make the garland.

Maybe they can get a dog later after Bruce and she gets away from Robert. That’s the main plan to get away from Robert. She’s done being his punching bag. Done being the sweet obedient wife. She’s going to leave with Bruce, soon.


End file.
